4E 204 year… 5th of Evening Star… 0231…
The world emerged from dusky silhouette to form the nocturnal alpine forest around the halting vampiress. Swishing Daedric silks embraced her, stroking her senses with the fragrance of night and gentle caress of wintery kisses. What had drawn her attention away from her track was the distraught sound that filled air and shook the earth. The rumbling filled every living thing with melancholy and dread. The voluminous clamor now had her undivided attention, drawing her away from her intended purpose.
For that moment, she listened intently to the heinous sound.
The crescendo had taken longer than a minute, but there was no mistaking it. The notes of it would have chilled a mortal or lesser creature than she, but for her it was a reminder. The tormented call pulled at the depths of her memories and brought to mind the individual she had met years ago by chance. She spent another moment pondering the unnatural storm of that long past evening, while watching the clouds that were forming rapidly overhead.
The vampiress turned toward the mountain where the sound had originated, watching the distance from under the mask she wore. Fate, it seemed, had intervened with her evening plans once more and she smiled because of it.
Around her, the other vampires materialize, their speed slowed with her own, just a moment behind her. Their indigo sleek robes twirled around their legs and bodies, enfolding them as they stood statue-still. The ominous Daedric runes that adorned them glinted in the moonlight, the ancient enchanting rippled throughout the fabric giving the robes life of their own.
Lightning flashed between the clouds to the West. Her attention was drawn upwards by the unusual tempest that was maturing, as she listened to the voice carried on the wind. Thunder rumbled in the distance, yet the cry carried weight over it.
The vampire's attendants waited for their mistress to make a motion. Her mind wandered that first encounter, her reminiscing lasting, to her companions' ignorance. Her smile broadened through her memories, crystalline of such dark times. Within her, a need grew, just as her attendants' robes fluttered in the gale. It drew her back to the present, yet she wasn't fussed to rush for them. It was their place to wait.
As the sound died from the gust, she scrutinized the path leading skyward over the distance. The distressing sound pulled forth new thoughts from her. She smiled broadly under the mask, her mind was made up. Her quarry had changed.
The Volkihar Clan could wait.